You told us of some suit; what is 't, Laertes ? And lose your voice; what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, The head is not more native to the heart, Laertes. Dread my lord, Your leave and favour to return to France; From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France 50 King. Have you your father's leave?-What says Polonius? Polonius. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave By laboursome petition, and at last Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent; I do beseech you, give him leave to go. King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will!— But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son, 60 Hamlet. [Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind. King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you? Hamlet. Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun. Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust. Thou know'st 't is common; all that lives must die, Hamlet. Ay, madam, it is common. D 70 Queen. Why seems it so particular with thee? If it be, Hamlet. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not 'seems.' 'T is not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, 85 No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, To give these mourning duties to your father: That father lost, lost his; and the survivor bound To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever Of impious stubbornness; 't is unmanly grief; 90 100 As of a father; for let the world take note, Than that which dearest father bears his son Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: 110 120 [Exeunt all but Hamlet. Hamlet. O that this too, too solid flesh would melt, His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! Fie on 't! O fie! 't is an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother 130 140 52 Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! By what it fed on; and yet, within a month- Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO. 150 I am glad to see you well: 161 Horatio, or I do forget myself. you: And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?— Marcellus. My good lord Hamlet. I am very glad to see you.-[To Bernardo.] But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, 170 To make it truster of your own report Against yourself; I know you are no truant. We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. Horatio. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Hamlet. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding. Horatio. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. Hamlet. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd-meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! My father!-methinks I see my father. Horatio. O where, my lord? 181 In my mind's eye, Horatio. Hamlet. I shall not look upon his like again. Horatio. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. Horatio. My lord, the king your father. Hamlet. 190 The king my father! Horatio. Season your admiration for a while With an attent ear, till I may deliver, Upon the witness of these gentlemen, Hamlet. For God's love, let me hear. Horatio. Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead vast and middle of the night, Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, Appears before them, and with solemn march 200 |